As Is In Life, As Is In Death
by Grand Phoenix
Summary: There can be no other way. (Or, an Alliance party goes to the Halls of Valor to claim the Aegis of Aggramar. Eyir, on the other hand, questions their integrity, especially the worgen that leads them.)[Legion era, pre-Nighthold]


**Notes1:** Although it's probably not the best thing to do while dealing with meat/cheese slicers at the deli, I always allow my mind to wander and conjure story ideas when I'm on the clock. I even have a little saying I've begun to tell folks: that is, 'even when I have a day off/when I'm off the clock, I am always working.' Luckily, this idea wasn't off-the-wall crazy and actually didn't scare me into contemplating my sanity, like _Your Heart Is A Vise_ and _so close you can put it in your hands_ did, so this was a plot I was able to piece together that did make sense to me and didn't strike fear into my heart :P

The major inspiration is based off a theory I saw last night on r/wow that speculates that, though Helya is dead, her deals still persist; therefore, even though Sylvanas failed to uphold her end of the bargain, whatever it is they negotiated in Helheim still holds. A poster down the thread thinks that Sylvanas may have offered the souls of the Horde (and probably those of the Alliance) to Helya in exchange for Helya offering her the Soulcage to trap Eyir with. Another poster thinks that, based off Sylvanas going on the offense and throwing the world into another war, it might actually be a case of body-swapping; i.e. Helya is in Sylvanas's body wreaking havoc while Sylvanas is trapped in the Shadowlands, similar to how Arthas and Ner'zhul had a battle of the minds back in _Arthas: Rise of the Lich King_.

I'm not sure if any of that will be remotely true; I know most people are adamant in their stance that Blizzard won't touch plotlines that may never be touched upon again (yes, but they brought Illidan back, since TBC was supposedly a mess lore-wise, and now the same people are complaining they should've left well enough alone; I won't even bring up WoD!Grom and Yrel, either). Still, it was an interesting post (although whether or not Varimathras is telling the truth for once or just feeding the Alliance bullshit from a spoon is still up for debate) and I should like to see it continued in some capacity in the future, so credit goes to the thread OP for giving me that burst of inspiration to write this up.

* * *

They're fools without honor, without virtue, and though there's the little, niggling thought in the back of her head that likes to think not every mortal is like that, that it's not right to lump them all under the same assumption, it becomes plain to see when the group arrives.

It's even more apparent that their leader, a plated warrior with sword and shield, is cut from the same cloth as the beast-man who tore the lantern from the banshee's grip and shattered it.

"Let us through!" he tells them as he steps forward. "We're here for the Aegis!"

She and Hryja look at him, and one glance at the vrykul woman shows that she's none too pleased with the interruption. Neither are Olmyr and Solsten; their eyes flicker at the beast-man (no, Eyir amends, the _worgen_ , for that was the word she heard the most when the banshee ensnared her) just as briefly and just as agitated, but they bring their staffs closer to bear and watch them with guarded eyes.

"You will not deny Hyrja this right of ascendance!" Olmyr snarls.

"Indeed," says Solsten. "Your presence alone sullies the sanctity of this ritual."

"We don't have to fight," the worgen calmly states. "There's no need. All we want is the Aegis, nothing more. Isn't that honorable enough?"

"The fact that you come here, bristling with steel, speaks otherwise!" says Olmyr, and points accusingly at the party with his staff.

"There is blood on you," says Solsten, grimacing. "Blood and dark magic; I can taste it even from here. How honest do you think your efforts were to get this far?"

"Honest enough to have given them a choice," says the worgen. "They didn't have to get in the way. We'd have gladly let them step aside. Time isn't exactly an ally when the Legion's bearing down all over the world."

"Lies!" cries Hyrja. "All lies! You have defiled these sacred halls with your savagery! You," and she glares hatefully at the warrior, "and your kind have brought down my kin! My sisters-in-arms! In your war! What honor is there in that?"

"It was a necessary evil my King was willing to commit," he says. "The Banshee Queen and her people have no place on Azeroth. She had to be stopped."

"Even so, you have slaughtered my people in cold blood. You have walked through their bodies as though they were flotsam…and for what? To achieve your petty vengeance? There is no honor, no justice, in what you've done!"

"I don't expect you to understand. That fiend's done more to my people than she would've done to yours. If it meant getting one step closer to the Aegis, then I would've done it all over again." The worgen shrugged. "You're a warrior. You should know that sometimes you have to do what you think is right. That, to me, is honor."

"I will not stand for this! I will purge you from these halls myself!"

"It doesn't have to be this way."

"There is no other way!"

"The ritual is not yet complete," Eyir says, and with a light touch of her hand eases the woman behind her. Her rage is practically a source of Light unto itself, hot and scorching as the sun. She expects Hyrja to jump, to protest, to demand there be justice, and though her body practically shakes with disagreement she allows her goddess to push her away. To restrain her—until the time is right.

Time they could ill afford to make. "You say you come for the Aegis of Aggramar?"

"I do, my Lady," says the worgen.

"For what purpose?"

"To close shut the Tomb of Sargeras with the Pillars of Creation and put an end to the Burning Legion. Forever."

She nods knowingly. "I see. It is a very honorable quest you are committed to."

"Anything to see the world free of their vile presence. I have friends in the Alliance who have been fighting them for as long as you've been alive. I want to help make things right."

 _But not too long,_ she thinks. "And what of you? Why should you see the Legion vanquished?"

His hackles rise. He licks a long, pink tongue across twin rows of sharp, canine teeth. "They created the Scourge. They used them to wipe out my people...people outside the Wall. We were stubborn. Foolish." His snout ripples. "Not this time. It won't happen again. We are better than before. We've overcome that. My King will show us the way. The Light will banish the Darkness."

Olmyr and Solsten frown. Hyrja seethes next to her, fists clenched but otherwise staying in place.

Eyir holds the worgen in her gaze. "Is that so?" she asks.

"I know so. The Alliace knows it. There can be no other way." The four other adventurers around him give voice to their assent; one of them, an elven death knight in foul armor and reeking black magic, claps him on the back. He doesn't see it, but the worgen grins at the gesture.

Eyir presses her lips together. Tilts her head slightly to the left, then she tilts it slightly to the right. "Tell me…champion," she begins. "How many Pillars are left for you to claim?"

"How many? Just two more: the Aegis and the Eye of Aman'thul, which is in Legion hands over at Suramar."

She nods again. "The Pillar is Suramar will be difficult, but I have no doubt in my mind you will be able to secure it in due time. You are certainly a very…capable person from a very capable organization."

"That we are, my Lady," says the worgen.

"So tell me, how are you going to claim the Aegis?"

It's subtle, a case of 'blink and you'll miss it', but Eyir sees the realization dawning on the faces of the death knight and his companions. They know, and it makes them tense. The worgen, however, doesn't. "That's simple: you'll give it to us."

Olmyr and Solsten scoff. Hyrja sneers. "You dare—!"

"We don't want to fight—"

"But you will," says Eyir, and she takes Hyrja by the shoulder and pulls her away. "You're going to. As you said, 'there can be no other way'."

"That's not what I—! That is—!" The worgen shifts uncomfortably, gets his wits together, sighs harshly. "Look, my Lady. That's not what I meant. What I meant was—"

"No. I know what you meant." Beneath her visor, she levels him and his party with a stern glare. "I know exactly what you mean. Your King may have freed me from the pretender's bonds, but that was not enough to prove me wrong. What you have done to Lord Odyn's halls, what you have done to my valkyra? I cannot overlook that, no matter how much you desire the Pillar. You will not have it."

"That's not for you to say!" the worgen yells, angrily. "You're not the master of this domain!"

"I am not," she agrees, "but I know your true intentions. You did not come here with honesty. There is darkness in you."

"That's a lie!"

"It is the truth."

"We're here to save Azeroth! We're going to stop the Legion! We need the Pillars, and we can't do that if we don't have the Aegis! Please, my Lady!"

"And what will you do then, once the Legion is through? What then, outsider? You will restore honor by slaying the Banshee Queen?" Eyir shakes her head. "I do not care how much of a right you have. You will break the world in your blind madness. No good will come out of it."

The worgen gapes at her. "Are you telling me…I should let it go? Are you telling me…that my King and my people…should stop fighting Sylvanas Windrunner?"

"Vengeance—justice—is not going to bring your fallen back, no matter how justified your actions are. People need a leader to guide them in darkness…even if they must bathe their hands in blood to reveal the Light."

"You're insane!"

"I speak only what is on my mind."

"She's a monster! A treacherous banshee! She must be put down!"

Eyir nods slowly. "Yes…She is treacherous…cunning, too, just like Helya. But she knows not what she is dealing with. She knows not what she has done." She gazes upon the party with both pity and parental disappointment. "None of you do. Such a shame."

The worgen bears his teeth at her. "You owe us, Eyir!" he screams. "My King saved you! _You owe us!_ "

"I owe you nothing. Nothing but my sympathies of the deal that may yet come to pass."

"DAMN YOU!"

"Let Odyn decide for himself if you are worthy of his blessing...and the Aegis. That is the only way." She doesn't bother to look back at the raging worgen. Steel is being drawn and the stench of magical ozone, of plague and sterile elements, are electrifying the air with their intensity; she has no doubt that Olmyr and Solsten are also contributing to the change in atmosphere.

One way or another, they're going to get the Aegis.

One way or another, they'll pursue their cause.

They will all fall right into the banshee's hands, as was the deal comprised.

" _Submit," the banshee crooned, and the Soulcage pulsed once more. She did not react when the val'kyr screamed, did not react when titanic blood spilled down her cheek and dripped onto the floor. She had simply looked upon her as one regarded an ant about to be crushed underfoot; the soft, crimson glow of her eyes assured it. "The val'kyr are mine. You…are mine. All will serve me in the end, one way or another."_

 _Fools,_ she thinks dismally. _Fools, all of them. They never learn._

"Come, Hyrja," she tells the vrykul woman. "Let us commence the ritual."

The grin that comes to light her face is positively _lupine_. "Anything for you, my goddess! I will bring honor to your name!"

"I know you will," says Eyir, and begins channeling Light into her hands.


End file.
